


Healing

by AngieInStL



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 15:11:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngieInStL/pseuds/AngieInStL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair is kidnapped, again, and tortured because of his relationship with Jim.  Can he overcome his fear and return to the man he loves?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing

Healing

The gentle tapping of raindrops on the windows was as soothing as a lullaby to the two exhausted men lying together in the king-sized bed. Blair lay on his side, his head pillowed on Jim’s shoulder. Ellison lay on his back, his face turned unconsciously toward his lover’s head. They had been on a stake-out until the wee hours of the night and had fallen into bed as soon as they got home.

A long rumble of thunder pulled at the Sentinel’s attention, rousing him to look around for a few moments before he rolled to his side, spooning around his Guide and dismissing the sound. The storm raged on, soaking the already saturated ground with even more water as the men slept.

Firm, insistent fingers stroked over his groin, coaxing Blair toward waking. He sighed deeply, stretching his legs and arching into the touch. Even as his body responded to the stimulation, his sleep-fogged brain refused to engage.

“Come on, Sandburg, or you won’t sleep tonight,” Jim urged, pulling his hand away now that his lover was coming around.

“Yeah I will,” Blair replied, catching the retreating hand and guiding it back to its former position. “Jus’ a few more minutes,” he added.

“Or we could shower together,” Jim teased. “Hot water, thick, luxurious lather,” he continued, feeling Blair’s body responding readily beneath his fingers. He dialed up his sense of smell, easily picking up the pheromones wafting off of the younger man’s skin. “Come on, Chief, rise and shine.”

Reluctantly, Blair released Jim’s wrist and began to push the down comforter away. He grabbed his bathrobe and made his way down the stairs. A cloud of steam greeted him as he entered the bathroom. Hanging his robe next to Jim’s, Blair peeled off his tee shirt and boxers. He paused to empty his bladder before lowering the lid and slipping into the shower stall. Two warm, wet, strong hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him back under the heated spray. He let his head fall against Jim’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

Jim grabbed the soap from the niche in the wall and began to lather a washcloth. He wrapped his arms around Blair, holding him in place as he began to wash the sturdy, muscular body that he loved. Blair stretched and shifted to provide access, reaching back to grip Jim’s thighs. He groaned when the lathered cloth gripped his shaft.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you, Chief,” Jim murmured softly into the mass of wet curls. In place of an answer, Blair rolled his hips, pushing into Jim’s hand.

After a casual washing, Jim traded places with Blair and steered his hands to the sturdy bar they’d had mounted in the shower stall. He reached into the basket in the corner of the stall for the lube that they kept there for occasions such as this. Jim squirted the cool gel onto his fingers and slid them between Blair’s cheeks. His lover flinched momentarily before settling back on the intruding digits. Only when Blair was thoroughly and completely ready did Jim move closer, holding his aching erection steady as he pushed into his lover’s body.

Blair exhaled deeply at the feel of the thick, hard shaft sliding into his ass. He felt the almost electric tingle that came with that first smooth thrust. He let his head hang loosely on his neck, taking a deeper breath of the warm moist air. An instant later, Jim’s hands joined his on the bar. They were familiar enough with each other that they needed no verbal cues to complete their union. Jim drew back and pushed forward, knowing what his Guide needed and wanted instinctively.

“Oh, yeah,” Blair mumbled as he canted his hips to change the angle of Jim’s thrusts. Minutes later, Jim’s hand came off of the bar to encircle Blair’s shaft, stroking it neither too gently nor too hard. Blair sighed as he came, the pure perfection of it leaving him awed. Jim milked him to completion, then gripped the bar again. Blair braced himself for his lover, knowing he was close.

When the water raining down on them began to cool, they hurriedly completed their showers and got out. Blair sat on the toilet, toweling his curly, dark hair while Jim shaved. He loved to watch the long, neatly manicured fingers as they drew the blade along Jim’s cheeks and neck. When Jim finished, he traded places with Blair. It wasn’t often that they had the time to shower together like that and they weren’t going to give up a minute of it. They brushed their teeth, then went back upstairs to dress.

By the time they reached the station, they were ready to get to work. Simon’s door opened at almost the same second the pair stepped from the elevator and he motioned for them to come inside.

“What’s up, Simon?” Blair asked as soon as he got past the doorway.

“We picked Roessler up this morning. He’s already agreed to turn State’s evidence against his boss in exchange for a lighter sentence,” Banks replied.

“Well, alright!” Blair announced, holding his hand up for a ‘high five’ to Jim, who looked at him and shook his head. “Well, wait, that is good news, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s good news but it came a little too easy for my taste. I want the two of you to keep an eye on his place for a few days. Just to be sure,” Simon said.

“Okay, we got it. Anything else?” Jim asked.

“No, except that I’m supposed to remind you of the Charity Ball that takes place on the 11th.”

“Aw, come on, Simon, you know I hate those stuffed shirt events!” Jim protested.

“Too bad. The Chief of Detectives wants all of us there, including Sandburg.”

“Me?” Blair asked. “He wants me there, too?”

“Yeah, and for Pete’s sake, stay out of trouble, Sandburg,” Simon said in an exasperated voice. “And no discussion of the mating rituals of people in the Brazilian rain forest or anything like last time! It was all I could do to keep that guy from filing a sexual harassment charge against you.”

“He should have kept his homophobic opinions to himself,” Blair replied.

“Jim, talk to him!” Simon ordered.

“I’ll do that,” Jim said as he opened the door and steered his partner out of the office.

***

The next morning, Jim dropped Blair at the University, since his car was in the shop. “I’ll be back at noon to get you. Don’t keep me waiting,” Jim warned.

“Yes Sir,” Blair replied, snapping off a salute.

“I mean it. I want to stop by that Greek place before it gets crowded.”

“Oh, heart attack in Styrofoam?” Blair teased.

“I thought feta cheese was supposed to be good for me,” Jim protested.

Leaning back in the open window, Blair caught the back of Jim’s neck and pulled him closer. After a quick kiss, Blair shook his head, “I said it was better than the other artery-clogging junk you were putting in your mouth.”

“I know something I’d like to have a bite of,” Jim countered. He chuckled softly at the sudden, sharp spike of arousal he scented on his Guide. “If you’re here when I get here at noon, maybe I’ll have an appetizer before lunch.”

Walking on a cloud of desire, Blair made his way to the lecture hall for his class. He passed several of his students, oblivious to their puzzled stares.

After his class, Blair hung around for a while to answer questions. Some of his students were having trouble finding the books he’d suggested and he gave them alternate titles to review. One of his female students hung back, clutching her notebook to her bosom, until the others had gone.

“Did you need to see me about something?” Blair asked as he pulled his book bag up from the floor and began to stuff his books and papers in it.

“Not really, I just wanted to invite you to a revival this weekend,” she said.

“Revival?” he asked.

“Yes, it’s being held at this address,” she said, handing him a brochure. “I’m sure Father Dan can help you.”

“Help me?” Blair repeated dumbly. He scanned the little tri-folded piece of paper for a moment until he saw that the topic of the revival was ‘Altering Alternate Lifestyles: How to bring your gay friends back to God.’ Drawing a slow, deep breath, Blair quashed the spark of anger that he felt. “I’m sorry, I don’t think that it would be appropriate.” He offered the pamphlet back but she ignored it.

“Don’t you care about your eternal soul?” the girl asked.

“I really don’t feel that’s any of your concern.”

Before either of them could say anything else, the door opened and a group of students arrived, talking amongst themselves as they took their seats for the next class. Blair hurriedly stuffed the piece of paper into his bag, hefting the bag onto his shoulder and striding away from the young woman.

He still had a few minutes before Jim would arrive to pick him up and Blair used them to try to get rid of the tension the young woman had caused him to feel. He found a place where he could sit beneath a tall pine tree and tried to meditate. While he and Jim tried not to flaunt their relationship, it still rankled him that there were people out there who would condemn them for it. He didn’t want to burden his lover with the negative energy and wanted to let it go before he arrived. Drawing a deep, cleansing breath, Blair imagined the hostility he was feeling and blew it out slowly. Keeping himself centered and calm, he took several more breaths, feeling the tension lessening with each exhale.

Jim brought the truck to a stop and searched for Blair among the moving throng of people in front of the building. He smiled when he spotted his Guide, sitting beneath a big tree. Driving slowly along the curving street, he tapped the horn. Blair’s eyes sought and found the familiar vehicle and he grinned. He grabbed his backpack and jogged across the grass and along the sidewalk until he reached the truck.

“Hey Jim,” Blair said, automatically reaching for his seatbelt.

“You been waiting long?” Jim asked.

“Nah, just a few minutes.”

“Have a good class?”

“It was okay,” Blair answered.

Jim heard and smelled the spike of emotions but said nothing. He knew that he couldn’t use his Sentinel senses against his Guide, it wasn’t right. If something was bothering Blair, he would share it when he was ready.

The rest of the day was spent catching up on paperwork. They did their four hours surveillance on Roessler’s office before being relieved by two other officers. On the way home, Jim stopped for take out Chinese food.

“You coming?” Jim asked when Blair didn’t get out of the truck.

“I’m really not hungry. You go ahead, I’ll eat something at home.”

Jim walked away from the truck and crossed the street to the restaurant. He knew something was eating at his Guide but Blair wasn’t ready to share it yet. There had been long stretches of silence while they were watching the office building, something that was truly unusual for Sandburg. He had remained on his side of the truck, staring out through the windshield, for almost the entire time. Not even Jim’s offer of a quickie blow job brought a smile to Blair’s face and that troubled Ellison more than anything.

Blair had spent the evening debating whether or not to tell Jim about the girl in his class and the pamphlet she’d given him. He thought most young people had finally found the enlightenment not to question another person’s sexual orientation that way. He was so engrossed in his mental tug of war that he didn’t notice the darkly-clothed figure skulking along the side of the truck.

The passenger door was jerked open and an arm came around Blair’s neck. Something was pressed over his nose and mouth and he struggled not to breathe in. But his lungs had other ideas and he felt the wave of exhaustion sweep over him.

Struggling with Blair’s unconscious body, Michael fumbled for the seatbelt release. He knew that he only had a few minutes to make his getaway. His friend Stephanie brought the car alongside and her boyfriend Matthew leapt out to help shift Blair into the back seat. By the time Jim came out of the restaurant with his food, they were turning the corner.

Jim saw that the truck was empty and immediately extended his senses to search for Blair. His nose caught the acrid odor of chloroform and he cursed under his breath. He opened the driver’s side door and scented Blair’s fear, along with a stronger smell of chloroform. The bag of food slipped from his fingers, forgotten, as his own fear escalated.

The street was alive with cops and detectives within minutes of Jim’s call to the station. His truck was dusted for prints, although he doubted they would find any. The Sentinel had already found and memorized the odor of the person who had taken Blair. All he had to do was come across them again. Simon was pacing on the sidewalk, wondering aloud who would take the police observer.

***

When Blair awakened, he was disoriented and vaguely nauseous. He had been stripped to his BVD’s and was sitting in a cold, metal chair. His hands were cuffed behind his back and his ankles were tied to the chair legs. After determining that he couldn’t get loose, he looked around. He was in some kind of barn. There were old hay bales piled up along one wall. The twine that had bound them had rotted away and the hay was spilling to the concrete floor. Footsteps alerted him to the presence of others and he turned to look for them.

“What’s going on? Where am I?” Blair asked.

“You are at my Retreat. You will remain here until you are cured of your unnatural attraction to your own gender. Father Dan has blessed me to begin the work with you,” Michael said, his breathy voice making it sound like some kind of prophesy.

“My attractions are none of your business!” Blair shouted. “You can’t keep me here!”

“I can and I will. You will confess your sin and beg forgiveness.”

“I don’t have anything to confess!” Blair said angrily. “My personal life is none of your business!”

The open-handed slap snapped Blair’s head to the side and he tasted blood in his mouth. The man stalked around the chair. Suddenly, he buried his hand in the mass of dark, curly hair and jerked Blair’s head back.

“Your sins are great and you will be made to atone for them,” Michael snarled. He dug into his pocket for the small tazer. He pressed the small buttons against Blair’s shoulder blade and activated it.

Pain caused him to go rigid in the chair while his muscles contracted under the electric current. Blair gasped for breath to cry out, struggling against the vise-like hand tangled in his hair.

“Confess!” Michael demanded.

“Go to hell,” Blair replied through clenched teeth.

The tazer touched his stomach and Blair tried to curl up as the muscles contracted painfully. It went on like that for a long time until Sandburg was unable to even cry out at the torment. Michael used the tazer over and over, moving from one muscle group to another until Blair’s entire body was twitching in agony. Finally, it stopped. The only sound in the large building was the soft sobs coming from the man in the chair and the heavy breathing of the man standing over him.

 

***

Jim tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable in his bed. The absence of his lover made everything feel wrong. He had half hoped that there would be a ransom demand or some kind of call from whoever had taken Blair from the truck. He and Simon had gone over all of their recent cases, searching for anyone with an axe to grind. In the morning, they would hit the bricks. Clutching Blair’s pillow, Jim tried to make some kind of mental connection with his missing Guide and Shaman.

Giving up the possibility of sleep, Jim got dressed and returned to the police station. He wasn’t at all surprised to find Simon already there.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Banks asked.

“Too quiet.”

“The only prints we found on the truck were yours and Blair’s.”

“I figured that much,” Jim replied.

“Coffee?” Simon offered.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“You planning to tell me what your Sentinel abilities found at the scene?” Simon asked, pinning Jim with a knowing glance.

“They used chloroform. He was terrified,” Jim answered.

***

Matthew stared down at the bound man, his face twisted with hate and disgust. He swirled the bucket of water until most of the ice had melted. Michael had told him not to let the sodomite sleep for more than a couple of hours. His hands tightened on the bucket and he began to pour the water over the man’s bowed neck.

Blair’s head snapped up at the first touch of the icy water. Another man stood over him. He had only an instant to draw a breath before the rest of the bucket was tossed against his chest. His muscles had stiffened up during the time he was passed out and his instinctive flinch caused him more pain. He bit back a cry, concentrating on breathing instead.

“Are you ready to confess your sin?” Matthew asked, tossing the bucket aside. He saw the defiance burning in the bound man’s eyes and delivered a stinging backhand to his cheek. He wanted to see fear, needed to know that he was intimidating the sinner. When the blue eyes turned back to him, they were filled with anger and that was unacceptable. Another open-handed slap whipped the man’s head to the side and he followed it up with a fist to his stomach.

The beating went on and on. Blair was determined not to show any fear but it was getting harder and harder. Over and over, the man demanded that he confess and repent of his sin. He had already tried telling them to ‘go to hell’ and to ‘fuck off’ and a dozen other flip statements that had gotten him more angry blows. It occurred to him to tell them that he was Jewish and didn’t believe in their God but he was sure that wouldn’t help. He was so tired and hurt so much that he prayed only for the oblivion of unconsciousness.

***

Jim was awake with the sunrise, not that he’d gotten much sleep. He drove around for a few hours, until one of the patrol cars pulled him over and told him to go home. He had paced for a while, unable to unwind enough to sit still. Cup after bitter cup of coffee had been poured and thrown out after growing cold. He stood in the doorway to Blair’s old room, now his home office, and wondered what his life would have been like if the younger man had never come into his life. He’d been slowly losing his mind, as his senses caused him to feel more and more strange inside his own skin. Melancholy finally settled over him and he sank into the couch. He pulled the Native American blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around his shoulders, inhaling Blair’s scent that clung to the natural fibers. That small amount of comfort allowed him to drift into a light doze. It was the sound of the trash truck backing up in the alley that finally woke him.

Weary faces looked up at him when he entered the bullpen and Jim knew that none of his friends had gotten much sleep. Simon came out of his office, heading for the coffee maker, and stopped upon seeing Ellison standing by his desk looking so lost.

“Blair has a morning class. I thought I’d go by Rainier and see if any of his students saw anything,” Jim explained.

“Take Connor with you,” Simon ordered.

The students seemed surprised and confused at not finding their teacher in front of the classroom. None of them had seen Blair since the day before, when he dismissed them from class. Jim’s ear didn’t detect any spikes of heart rate from any of them, indicating that they were probably telling the truth. He and Connor handed out cards, asking the students to call if they saw or heard anything about Sandburg.

“What now?” Connor asked as the last of the students filed out of the room.

“He has another class at one,” Jim answered. He was distracted by a familiar scent. Whoever had Blair had been in the room at some point in the past. He concentrated, stripping away the other odors until he had just the one he was looking for.

“Ellison!” Megan shouted. She reached out and took hold of the tall detective with one hand, reaching for her cell phone with the other. “Jim?”

Gasping, the Sentinel snapped out of the zone and looked around. He felt the woman’s hand on his arm and realized that she had brought him back.

“Are you alright?” she asked, sliding the phone back into her bag.

“Yeah, I was just … I didn’t sleep … I’m-” Jim fumbled for an acceptable excuse.

“We’ll find Sandy. Come on, let’s get you back to the office,” Connor said.

***

When Blair was roused next, he realized that he was being moved. Rough hands unlocked the cuffs from around his wrists and he was dragged to his feet. His knees folded and he groaned in pain. By the time he thought to fight back, his hands were restrained again. Unable to stand, he hung there. When the pain in his arms grew to be too much, he tried to get his wobbly knees under him. He was positioned against a large wooden barrel, his arms wrapped around it. The rough wood irritated his aching abdominal muscles and he tried to hold his body away from it. A cold, drenching spray was directed against his back and he flinched.

“Are you ready to confess and beg forgiveness?” Michael asked.

Unable to summon his voice, Blair shook his head. He heard the whistle in the instant before something connected with his back. His mouth opened in a silent scream as his body leapt against the rough wood. A second blow followed the first and he cried out.

“Confess!” Michael shouted.

“No!” Blair yelled back as he struggled against the metal that encircled his wrists.

The beating was merciless. Every so often, his tormentor would stop and offer him the chance to confess. When he started to lose consciousness, an icy spray was directed against his tender back, forcing him to waken and struggle again. The water felt like thousands of needles against his skin. When the beating resumed, there was a new sting. Blair was unaware of the stream of tears that flowed from his eyes. His world had narrowed down to the pain, his body clenching for the next blow.

Instead of the hose, Blair felt a hand brushing over the back of his head. He had braced his forehead against the barrel. Now, he raised his head and turned it to look at the person who stood at his side.

Stephanie gave a supportive smile as she slipped her hand beneath the curtain of wet curls. “It would be so much easier if you were to confess,” she whispered. “You want him to stop hitting you, don’t you?” she asked, nodding her head to encourage him to agree with her. “All you have to do is tell him what he wants to hear and he’ll stop.”

Her voice was so tender that he felt compelled to explain. “I’m Jewish,” he replied. “I can’t make confession to your God.”

“But you readily admit that you are living in sin, fornicating with another man, right?” she asked, gently stroking his temple.

“I … I love him. It isn’t any … any of … anyone’s business,” Blair explained.

“But you admit that it’s a sin. Even in the Old Testament, two men lying together was an abomination. If you admit that it’s a sin, he’ll stop. We’ll pray for you. We’ll help you,” she urged.

“I … can’t,” Blair sobbed.

“I’m sorry then,” Stephanie said as she backed away.

The hose struck again and Blair’s body leapt in pain. He clawed at the sides of the barrel. After the third or fourth blow, he slumped in his bonds, unconscious. When they couldn’t rouse him again, Michael released the chains on Blair’s wrists and let him slide to the floor. He put a lock in the links, securing his wrists together before walking away.

“We’ll give him a couple of hours to meditate on his sin, then begin again,” Michael explained.

“What about what he said? If he’s really Jewish, maybe we can’t break him like the others,” Stephanie said.

“Are you getting soft, Sister? Is the Devil whispering sweet nothings in your ear?” he asked. He was pleased to see her shake her head. He couldn’t have her wavering in her commitment to bringing the lost souls to redemption. “Don’t you have a class?”

“Yes, but they’ll cancel it because he’s not going to be there,” she replied.

“But you still need to go about your normal routine. I’ll drive you to Rainier.”

***

It was Rafe who went with Jim to the afternoon class. They watched the students file into the cavernous lecture hall, laughing and talking as they took their seats. Jim extended his senses, desperately seeking the person who had taken Blair.

Stephanie stopped at the door, looking down at the two men who stood beside the teacher’s desk. She recognized the taller man with the military haircut as Blair’s lover. Frightened that he had somehow figured out that she was involved, she turned away and hurried down the hall.

“Where are you going? Stephanie?” Roger Placket called out to the young woman who usually sat behind him in the lecture hall. When she hit the door at the end of the hall and burst out of the building, he shrugged and turned to go into class.

Hearing the raised voice at the entrance, Jim’s sense of smell spiked. His lover’s scent filled his nasal passages and adrenaline flooded his bloodstream. He practically leapt across the floor, racing up the steps toward the door. He shoved the tall blond man out of the way to step into the hall. He studied the few bodies still moving toward the classroom but didn’t detect Blair’s scent on any of them. Jerking the door open again, he scanned for the blond man.

Roger sank back against the chair as the tall man stalked down the aisle to stand over him. He cringed when the man reached down to take him by the arm.

“Where did they go?” Jim snarled.

“Who? What?” Roger gasped.

“You were speaking to someone in the hall. Where did they go?”

Rafe rushed to Ellison’s side and tried to insinuate his body between the student and the enraged detective. “Jim! Take it easy. He’ll cooperate, won’t you?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at the bewildered student. The kid nodded so vigorously that his teeth chattered.

When the veil of rage lifted, Jim released the kid’s arm and settled back on his heels. Rafe turned to the blond man and apologized.

“It’s okay. I’ve seen him with Mr. Sandburg, I know they’re friends,” Roger explained. “I was talking to Stephanie Morehouse in the hall. She has this class, too.”

Ashamed of his behavior, Jim stretched his hand out to give the kid a pat on the shoulder before he turned to leave the lecture hall. Peripherally, he was aware of Rafe telling the students that Blair was missing and that they should call the police if they saw or heard anything about his whereabouts.

Rafe caught up with Ellison as he was entering the admissions office. The secretary looked up and smiled at him.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I need a student’s home address,” Jim explained, flashing his badge.

“Oh, I’m not sure if I can give out that kind of information without permission,” she replied.

“It concerns one of your teaching assistants, Blair Sandburg. He’s missing and I think she might have knowledge of his location,” Jim said. He saw that she smiled immediately on hearing his lover’s name. “I’m really worried about him, Ma’am, it isn’t like him to not call.”

“Oh, well, since you’re a policeman, I guess it’d be alright,” she said, turning to tap on her keyboard. While the computer was pulling up the information, she picked up a pen and a piece of paper. She carefully wrote down the address and handed it to Jim.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the paper and giving her hand a firm squeeze, “You’re an angel.”

***

The water was cold and it stung his skin and Blair moaned pitifully. He was so thirsty that he tried to catch some of the moisture in his mouth. The stream was directed into his face and he inhaled, immediately beginning to cough. A sob of frustration left his throat as he tucked his head behind his arm.

Michael grinned maliciously as he approached Sandburg. He figured that he would be able to break him so he could move on to the next part of the plan. Shutting off the water, he laid the hose on the floor and walked over to the man huddled by the barrel. He leaned down and took hold of Blair’s arm, intending to pull him to his feet but he was unprepared for the burst of fury from the beaten body.

Keeping his swollen eyes open just a smidge was hard but Blair had to see what the man was doing. When he saw the man coming toward him, he gathered up the last of his energy. The moment the man grabbed his arm, Blair swung his bound hands, connecting with the man’s head.

The chain around Sandburg’s wrists struck Michael in the mouth, splitting his lip. Cupping his hand around the wound, Michael began to kick the downed man. When he finally regained control of himself, he saw that Blair was unconscious. He carefully released the chains and dragged the limp, deadweight body to a wooden crate he had dubbed ‘the prayer box.’ He forced Blair into the box on his knees. Using a length of rope, he tied the captive’s wrists together behind his back and threaded the rope through a hole on the top of the box. Closing the box, he tossed a tarp over it, plunging the interior into complete darkness.

***

The blue and white truck slid to a stop in front of the little cottage-style house. Jim vaulted from the driver’s seat and strode quickly up the walk. He could only hear one heart beating inside of the building; he just hoped that it was the person he was looking for. Rafe caught his eye and motioned that he was going to circle around to the back. Jim nodded and waited a few seconds before knocking on the door. An older woman answered, looking up at the tall detective.

“Yes?” she said, glancing past Jim nervously.

“I’m looking for Stephanie Morehouse. I got her address from Rainier. Is she here, Ma’am?” Jim asked, showing his badge.

“Stephanie has been staying with her uncle for the past few nights,” the woman replied. “Would you like to leave her a message, Officer Ellison?”

“May I have the address for her uncle?” Jim countered. Rafe came back around the house and moved to provide backup, shaking his head to indicate that there wasn’t anyone back there.

“Is she in trouble?” the woman asked.

“No, Ma’am, but we think she may have witnessed something and we need to get her statement,” Jim lied. “She may even be in danger if she was seen by the man we’re searching for.”

“Oh, dear! Her uncle Dan is holding a revival down by the docks. I have one of his leaflets here,” she turned away from the door and rifled through the papers on the corner of the TV stand. She found what she was looking for and handed it to Jim.

One glance at the topic on the brochure made Jim’s blood run cold. He pocketed the paper without allowing Rafe to see it and thanked the woman. Ellison’s heart was racing as he slid behind the wheel and started the truck. He barely waited for Rafe to close the door before he pulled away, laying down rubber and smoking the tires.

“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” Rafe asked when his heart retreated from his throat. “What was on the paper she handed you?” Getting no answer, he tried another tact, “Do you want me to call for backup?”

“Not yet,” Jim answered.

***

Coming to in the dark confines of the box, Blair struggled not to panic. He lasted all of about three minutes before he began to struggle. His arms and shoulders hurt and he could barely move. The darkness worked its own torment. Eventually, Blair found his voice and began to scream.

***

There were several cars parked around the small warehouse building. Jim and Rafe got out of the truck and walked to the doors where several young people were carrying in folding chairs. They slipped in between a couple of older teens and began to look around. A make-shift stage had been set up in one corner and several women were busily draping it with a crepe paper skirt. Several men were on scaffolding, hanging lights and speakers from the rafters. Jim approached a man in a business suit who appeared to be directing the activity.

“Excuse me, I need to speak to whoever is in charge,” Jim said, after showing the man his badge.

“I’m Father Daniel, how can I help you?” the man said, giving him an effeminate handshake and a smile.

“We’re looking for a young woman, Stephanie Morehouse. We were told that her uncle was here,” Jim said, scanning all of the people inside of the building.

“My niece? What has she done?” the man asked.

“We think she may have witnessed a kidnapping and we need to talk to her.”

“A kidnapping! I haven’t seen her since supper last night. She had class today at the university, have you tried there?”

“We did, she showed up for her class but didn’t stay. Do you know of any place she might go if she was afraid? Do you know any of her friends?” Jim asked.

“Just her boyfriend, Matthew Hurst. He was helping to unload the chairs. He should be … there he is, in the blue shirt and jeans,” Father Daniel said, pointing to a group in the far corner. “He might know where she would go.”

***

Stephanie ran into the barn and closed the door behind her. Michael rose quickly from his seat on the bumper of the van.

“What are you doing back here?” he asked.

“His partner was at the school. I think he saw me,” she replied.

“Were you followed?”

“No, I took the long way around. Where is he? What did you do with him?” she asked, not seeing Blair near the barrels.

“He’s in the prayer box. Help me get him out and we’ll see if he’s ready to confess his sins,” Michael said, moving toward the tarp-covered box. He tossed the tarp aside and pried off the door. The odor of sweat and piss was thick in the small space and he waved his hand in front of his face. Stephanie released the knot on the rope and Michael pulled the bound man out. Blair groaned as his body was straightened. “Hand me the hose, he pissed himself,” Michael said.

When they finished rinsing him off, Michael hauled Blair to his feet and dragged him back to the barrel. Blair’s hands were forced back into the chains. Stephanie moved to stand where she could see Blair’s face. Michael flexed the length of garden hose before he raised it above his head and swung it toward the bound man.

Another silent scream broke from Blair’s mouth as the blows fell. Tears poured from his eyes and he tried to get closer to the barrels, anything to stop the pain. Finally, he began to sob aloud.

“Please … please stop … I confess … please,” he gasped between struggling for breath.

Stephanie held up her hand for Michael to stop. She moved closer and wrapped her hand gently around Blair’s fingers. “Do you want to confess your sins?” she asked. Blair sobbed and nodded his head. “Do you admit that you were living in sin with that other man?” Unable to voice the lie, he could only nod again. “Will you swear that you will not go back to that life style?”

A pang of agony gripped his heart as he thought of life without Jim Ellison. If that was the price of his freedom, it was too much! “No! I love Jim!” Blair said, looking at the girl and hoping that she would somehow understand. “Please! I just want to go home!” he begged.

Looking away, Stephanie’s hopeful expression fell. She shook her head and eased her hand out of Blair’s. Michael raised the hose again and began to rain blows on the bruised and bloody back. Two times, he passed out and two times he was revived with a bucket of salty water thrown on him. His back felt like it had been set on fire.

“Confess and I’ll grant you a merciful death,” Michael offered. The only response he got was a louder sob. Glancing at his watch, he knew that he had to move things along. He began to center all of his blows across Blair’s lower back. Ten minutes later, he heard the words he was listening for.

“Alright! I confess! I’m a sinner. I won’t do it again,” Blair announced, clinging to the barrel as he sobbed in anguish.

“You admit that it’s wrong to love another man?” Michael asked.

“Yes! Yes! It’s wrong! I’m sorry! Please, God, don’t hurt me anymore,” Blair begged.

“Are you ready to die?”

“Please! Don’t hurt me!” Blair pleaded. His heart was breaking at the thought that he couldn’t go back to Jim but he couldn’t take it anymore.

Michael dropped the hose and crossed to release the chains. Blair sank to the floor, still sobbing brokenly. He made no resistance when he was dragged across the room. When allowed, he went to his knees and tried to curl into a fetal ball.

“Take hold of this and keep it tight,” Michael told Stephanie as he held out the chain attached to Blair’s right hand. When she took the chain, he grabbed the roll of duct tape and began to secure Blair’s wrist to the 2x4. He bit the tape to tear it from the roll and moved to the other end of the board. In a few seconds, he had Sandburg’s arms stretched widely and securely attached to the board. When he pulled on the chain hanging above Blair’s head, the board rose until Sandburg was standing on his wobbly legs.

“What are you going to do?” Blair asked timidly.

“He’s going to grant you a merciful death,” Stephanie answered. “Now, drink this,” she said, holding a small bottle to his lips.

Blair’s instincts kicked in and he tried to turn away from the bottle. Michael saw the struggle and moved to grab Sandburg by the jaw to force his mouth open. The wine was heavily laced with codeine and would dull his senses for what was next. While they waited, Stephanie took a swatch of cloth and wrapped it around Blair’s hips. The pain receded somewhat and he was able to lift his head and look at the people who were about to end his life. This wasn’t like when Lash had him, he had been afraid then. Now, all he wanted was a peaceful oblivion. It was hard to breathe and he closed his eyes.

Picking up the final pieces of his macabre scene, Michael approached the beaten man again. Placing the thin piece of metal in the palm of Blair’s hand, he took up the air-powered hammer.

***

Jim pushed his way through the cluster of young people until he reached the one identified as Matthew. The young man saw him and turned to try and get away. Rafe circled the group, cutting off the escape route. Matthew backed away from the irate detective until he was against the wall. The others slowly moved away, staring like frightened deer at a hungry wolf. When Jim got closer, he easily picked up Blair’s scent on Hurst.

“Where is he?” Jim demanded.

“Wh-where i-i-is who?” Matthew asked.

“Where is Blair Sandburg?” Jim growled, towering over the younger man as he stepped right into his personal space.

“I d-d-don’t know w-w-what you’re t-t-talking about,” he stammered.

Jim grabbed the kid with both hands, pushing him bodily up the metal wall. He could smell the fear coming off of Matthew in waves, could hear his heart racing. Ellison gave the kid a little shake, his jaw throbbing with poorly controlled rage.

“Ellison! Put him down!” Rafe shouted. He took hold of Jim’s hands and tried to force them to let go. It took a few seconds before the Sentinel complied. Father Daniel pushed his way through the crowd to stand close to his niece’s boyfriend.

“I’m only going to ask you one more time. Where is Blair?” Jim asked.

Frightened, Matthew looked toward Father Daniel. The minister nodded, encouraging him to tell if he knew what the other man wanted to know.

“They t-t-took him to the s-s-s-storage barn,” Matthew said.

“Where?” Jim shouted.

“I’ll go with you,” Father Daniel announced. “It belongs to the church,” he explained.

“I’ll call for backup,” Rafe added. “And an ambulance,” he said under his breath.

It took them almost half an hour to reach the property. Once he spotted the barn, Jim swung the truck off of the rutted road and passed the minister’s car. Rafe’s head bounced off of the back glass in spite of the way he was braced. He would never again make fun of Blair’s complaints about Jim’s driving. When the truck slid to a stop, he leapt out and ran to catch up to Ellison.

He was here! Jim could already tell that his Guide was in the building. But Blair’s breathing was labored and Jim knew that he had to hurry. He located two other heartbeats and gestured to Rafe that they were to the left of the door. Rafe nodded and held up three fingers, counting down to one as Jim flung the door open.

Michael moaned as Stephanie’s nails dug into his back. He arched his back as his orgasm began. When he heard the door open, he flinched, toppling off of Stephanie to land on his bare ass on the hay. His eyes went wide at the pair of guns pointed at his face. His erection faded immediately and he was torn between raising his hands and covering his groin. Stephanie squealed, folding her arms across her breasts and pulling up her knees to hide her nudity.

“You got them?” Jim asked, already turning his attention toward his partner.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Rafe answered.

Jim jogged over to where Blair was hanging. He reached out, intending to try to pull him down until he saw the blood dripping from the clenched hands.

“Oh my God!” Jim breathed. “Rafe! Call an ambulance! NOW!” he yelled.

Father Daniel entered the barn and gasped in horror at seeing his niece and her friend having been caught in such a compromising position. He edged up alongside of the detective still standing over them with a gun in his hand.

“They will stay right where they are if you need to go with your friend,” the minister offered.

Turning around, he saw Ellison reaching up as if he was going to lift Blair down from the board that he was hanging from. He saw the blood on the floor and then spotted the hose for the air hammer.

“Don’t move him!” Rafe shouted as he holstered his weapon and jogged over to Jim.

“But he’s hurt!” Jim protested. “He can’t breathe!”

“Jim, you’ll hurt him if you move him,” Rafe said, struggling to keep his voice calm. “You can touch him but don’t move him.”

Turning back to his partner, his lover, Jim gently cupped Blair’s face. The pain-filled eyes fluttered, opening briefly before they drifted closed again. Jim tenderly raked the hair from Blair’s face, a gesture that comforted them both. Because of the height of the board, Blair was at eye level with Jim. Blair’s scent washed over him and Ellison fought back tears. He touched his forehead to Blair’s and sighed.

Just when he thought that Ellison was going to be alright, Rafe heard a soft growl. He reached out to the other detective, running his hand over Jim’s shoulder. The growl turned into words.

“Where in the hell is that ambulance?”

“It’s coming. Just hang in there,” Rafe said gently. Blair struggled to draw another breath and both of the detectives ached to do something to help him.

Peripherally, Jim became aware of a soothing litany of words coming from behind him. He tore his eyes away from his lover for a moment to look over at Father Daniel. Recognizing that the man was praying for Blair, Jim tuned him out. He turned back to Blair, extending his hearing to listen for his lover’s heart beat. He also heard the thin whine of sirens and knew that help was on the way.

The paramedics burst into the building with Captain Banks and the rest of Major Crimes.

“Mother of God!” Simon whispered, letting the cigar slip from his mouth. It looked like Blair had been crucified. His arms were outstretched and a swatch of purple cloth had been tied around his hips. The only things missing were a crown of thorns and a sign above his head. Connor gasped, her hand going to her mouth.

“Alright, I need all of you to step back so we can work,” the lead medic announced. He put down his drug box and pulled on a pair of gloves. He reached out then, to check Blair’s pulse. “I need to put him on oxygen.” He hurriedly opened the sterile pack holding the mask and tubing and attached it to the portable tank. “I need someone here to hold this,” he said. Father Daniel stepped up and took the tank in his hands. The medic placed the mask over Blair’s face and stretched the elastic over his head. At his touch, Blair whimpered and tried to move, bringing on more pain. Jim surged forward and began to gently pet his lover, soothing and calming him.

The second paramedic began to examine the 2x4 to see how it was attached to the upright beam. He slid the blade of his knife between the pieces until he confirmed that there were only four nails holding them together. He knelt and repeated the process on the smaller board at the bottom.

Jim looked down to see what the medic was doing and gasped in horror at the nails protruding from the tops of his lover’s feet. Tears blurred his vision. He loved to rub Blair’s feet when he lay on the couch and put them in his lap. Blair had such beautiful feet.

“Gentlemen, I need someone to hold this board up while I pry it loose,” the second medic said. Jim and Rafe immediately reached up to offer their support. “Give me that pry bar,” he said to Banks, pointing to it as it lay on top of a nearby crate. Simon grabbed it and held it out to him. The medic jammed it between the board and the upright and began to pry them apart. “Keep him in exactly this position when the board comes loose until I can check him for other wounds,” he cautioned the men.

Agonizing minutes later, the boards were separated from the upright and the medic allowed them to lower Blair to the stretcher. Blair flinched as his bruised and battered back touched the padded surface. His eyes opened, wide and pain filled.

“What about getting him off of this board?” Simon asked.

“We’ll have to before we transport him but we need to get him stabilized first,” the medic explained. He carefully slipped the blood pressure cuff under Blair’s arm and took a reading. He listened to Blair’s heart and lungs. Finally, he brought out a bag of IV solution and swabbed Blair’s arm in preparation for inserting the needle.

“What’s that?” Jim asked.

“Just some fluids,” the medic replied. He laid out another package and moved to kneel at the head of the stretcher. He slipped his hand under the back of Blair’s neck and lifted to point Blair’s chin upwards. He removed the oxygen mask and inserted something into Sandburg’s mouth.

“What are you doing?” Jim asked.

“I’m going to put this tube down his throat to help him breathe. He’s having trouble getting enough oxygen to his blood,” the medic patiently explained. He was used to dealing with hysterical family members but Jim’s calm questions were unnerving. Once the tube was in place, he attached it to the line from the oxygen tank. He laid the tank on the gurney and picked up a large ball. “Here, give this a squeeze every five seconds,” he said, easing the ball into Jim’s large hand.

Having something to do helped Jim to stay calm. He heard the police officer reading the teenagers their rights and felt a brief flicker of anger at hearing the girl sobbing. Father Daniel went with them, softly assuring them that he would do what he could for them.

The medic went to the rescue unit and returned with a small circular saw. Simon, Rafe and Brown edged in closer, curious as to what the man was going to do and anxious for his safety if Jim should think they were hurting Blair.

The repetitious nature of forcing oxygen into Blair’s lungs was soothing so Jim was startled when the circular saw started and began to cut through the board. The vibrations were painful and Blair’s forehead furrowed as he tried to pull his arm away from the pain. Jim reached out with his other hand and covered his lover’s hand, gently lacing their fingers together.

When they were finally ready to transport, nearly an hour had passed. Jim’s knees were stiff from kneeling beside the gurney. Two pair of hands helped him to his feet and he looked up in surprise at seeing Simon. He hadn’t even really registered the Captain’s arrival. He followed the gurney as if tethered by an invisible cable. They loaded Blair into the ambulance and Jim climbed right in after him.

At the hospital, the ER doctors tried to separate Jim from Blair, only to discover that the detective was the proverbial immovable object. Since Ellison was listed as Sandburg’s next of kin, they decided to let him stay. It took them another couple of hours to get him ready for surgery. Jim walked alongside the rolling bed until they reached the final set of doors to the operating theater. He then found his way to the waiting room. He was surprised to see Banks already there.

“Why would they do that to him?” Simon asked. Jim groped in his pocket for the leaflet and slapped it into the other man’s hand. He dragged his fingers over his head as he dropped wearily into the padded chair. Guilt welled up, along with the tears he’d managed to hold back in front of strangers. He pressed his clenched fists against his eyes and his shoulders shook with silent sobs.

Unfolding the paper, Simon read the cover. He glanced over at Jim and shook his head slowly. He had heard the rumors circulating about Ellison and Sandburg, they started not long after the younger man moved into the loft. But this was a lot more than rumor and innuendo, this was attempted murder. He tucked the paper into his pocket and moved to put a supportive hand on Jim’s shoulder.

The room was crowded by the time the nurse came out to tell them anything. Jim shot out of the chair like he’d been bitten and hurried to meet her at the door.

“He’s out of surgery and in recovery. Dr. Perkins would like you to come and try to calm him down because he’s come out from under the anesthesia faster than normal,” the nurse explained. “He seems highly agitated and the doctor doesn’t want to have to sedate him if we can avoid it.”

“Why? What’s wrong with him?” Jim asked.

“He’s still on a respirator. We don’t want to depress his breathing.”

Jim nodded and urged her out of the room, eager to get to his lover. She led him into a small room and helped him into a sterile smock after he scrubbed his hands and forearms. When he was ready, she led him through another set of doors to where Blair lay in the hospital bed. His bandaged hands lay on top of the sheets, dark bruises on his wrists contrasting starkly with the blinding white material. Jim moved to the side of the bed and gently brushed Blair’s hair away from his ear. He leaned in close and whispered softly. “I love you, Chief. I’m right here and you’re safe,” he said.

The nurse nodded to herself as the numbers on the monitor settled into a normal rhythm. The patient stopped fighting the respirator. She shuddered as she remembered the horrific bruises on the handsome young man’s back and legs.

When Blair was moved to a room, all of Major Crimes stopped in to see him. Every one of them was visibly moved by how small and vulnerable Sandburg looked in the hospital bed with his hands swathed in a thick layer of bandages. They were troubled by the respirator tube, Taggert kept rubbing his throat. The nurse only let them stay for a few minutes before she reminded them that they were only allowed two visitors in the room at a time. They quietly discussed it and decided that Brown would stay for the first few hours.

Jim wasn’t thrilled with the idea of having a babysitter because he wanted to be alone with his lover. Ignoring the stocky detective, he settled in the chair by the bed and rested his hand on Blair’s shoulder. He focused on the even rhythm of Blair’s heart and drifted into a light doze. Almost immediately, he was whisked away to the blue jungle. Dressed in fatigues, he jogged toward the temple. Incacha was there, on the steps, waiting for him. Huddled at his feet was the familiar gray wolf. Jim hurried forward and reached out for the silky fur only to have the wolf flinch and growl at him. Drawing back his hand in surprise, he looked up at the Chopec shaman.

“Your Guide is in turmoil,” Incacha explained.

“I couldn’t find him fast enough.”

“That is not the reason. He was tortured. His mind and his soul were hurt more than his body. You must tread carefully if you are to help him to heal,” the shaman explained cryptically.

Before Jim could ask another question, he was thrown from the blue jungle and back into the hospital room. Blair was coming around. His lover was starting to toss his head from side to side and trying to bring his bandaged hands up to dislodge the tube in his throat.

He had been drifting on a dark ocean. He couldn’t see or hear anything. But there was something about the darkness, something sinister. When he spotted the soft glow on the horizon, he leaned toward it, eager for the light. But the closer he got to the light, the more his body hurt. By the time he realized that he was afraid of the light too, he was already there. Something strange and foreign was pressing against his tongue and throat. He tried to move his hands, to push it away, but something was holding him back. Blair began to fight against the restraint.

“Easy, Chief, you’re safe. It’s over. Just try to relax,” Jim soothed. H. was on the other side of the bed, gently keeping Blair’s hands still. “Open your eyes for me. Come on, Blair, look at me.” Jim waited anxiously as his lover’s eyes darted behind closed lids. Finally, he was rewarded with a glimpse of blue. “That’s it. Stay calm. You have a breathing tube in your throat. Don’t fight it. Just take nice, easy breaths,” he coached.

Relief washed over Blair when he saw the familiar tiled ceiling of his hospital room. Jim’s voice was soothing, as was the hand gently massaging the top of his head. He trusted the Sentinel to tell him the truth, so he accepted the pressure in his throat. His eyes moved to the owner of the hands pressing against his forearms and recognized Detective Brown.

“You need to rest, Chief,” Jim urged.

It took a few seconds for the memory to float to the front of his brain. When it did, Blair gasped in fear. If they found out that he was back with Jim, they would come for him again. He couldn’t go through that again! He wasn’t strong enough to endure the torture again!

Jim heard Blair’s heart begin to race and heard the panicked breaths that went against the machine pumping air into his lungs. When Blair began to toss his head from side to side, the alarm on the monitor went off. Two nurses rushed in and immediately ordered him to step out of the room. Jim protested but H. took hold of his arm and pulled him out so the nurses could try to calm Blair.

When Brown’s hands left his arms, Blair raised his hands. The sight of the thick bandages only added to his terror and he tried to turn away. The nurse flipped a switch on the ventilator so that Blair was breathing on his own while she tried to calm him down.

In the hall, Jim sagged against the wall. He could still hear the frantic struggles as Blair refused to relax. He heard the nurse announce that she was administering a sedative and gradually the sounds faded. A hand on his shoulder caused him to shift his attention away from his lover for a moment.

“Hey, Jim, are you alright?” Henri asked.

Sighing heavily, Ellison nodded. “I just wish we had found him sooner,” he said.

“You and me both, man,” Brown agreed. “What I want to know is, what made them think Sandburg was gay? I mean, he hits on anything in a skirt. He’s like my sister-in-law’s poodle, always humping against something!”

Jim had to smile at the comment, so like what he had said of the younger man when they first moved in together. It also helped to relieve some of the stress he had been feeling over what their coworkers would think about the attack.

The nurse stepped into the hall and drew the door closed behind her. Henri and Jim both moved toward her, eager to get back to Blair’s side.

“He’s sleeping again. I suspect that he was panicked by the respirator but it has to stay in place until his diaphragm has had a chance to recover from the strain,” she explained softly.

“How long?” Jim asked.

“At least until the doctor makes rounds in the morning.”

“He was having a nightmare,” Jim said. “I couldn’t get him to wake up.”

“It’s understandable, under the circumstances. His mind will struggle to deal with the trauma. The best thing you can do is be there for him.”

“Thank you,” Jim said, as the other nurse came out of the room.

Blair had been repositioned on the bed with his hands propped up on pillows. Jim returned to the side of the bed and studied the lax features. Henri returned to the chair he had been sitting in, picking up the magazine he had thrown on the windowsill. Over the top of the glossy pages, he watched the other detective.

Like Simon, Henri had heard the rumors and, like Simon, he had ignored them. Anyone who ever saw the parade of beautiful women Ellison and Sandburg attracted could not possibly believe they were gay. But there was something about the look on Jim’s face …

Rafe showed up for his shift at the hospital with a sack from Wonder Burger and a tall thermos of coffee. In spite of saying that he wasn’t hungry, as soon as the greasy meat hit the back of his throat, Jim realized that he was ravenous. He devoured the burger and the cold, limp fries without even really thinking about it. Peripherally, he was aware of H. filling Rafe in on Blair’s nightmare and explaining about the respirator. Brown waved as he slipped out of the room and Jim raised a hand between bites.

Some time near morning, Blair had another nightmare. Jim was roused from his deep slumber to the alarm on the respirator going off. The nurse and an orderly hurried into the room. Blair was tossing his head again and scrabbling against the mattress with his feet.

“Try talking to him,” the nurse suggested. Jim needed no further encouragement as he leaned over the rails and captured Blair’s face between his hands.

“Blair, it’s a dream. You need to wake up for me, Chief. Come on, open your eyes. You’re safe. It’s over and you’re in the hospital,” Jim said in a soothing tone of voice. Tears leaked from Blair’s closed eyelids and Jim gently brushed them away with his thumbs. “Come on, Chief, wake up. You need to wake up now,” he urged.

Finally, Blair’s eyes did open, darting frantically around the room before settling on Jim’s face. Instead of being reassuring, the sight of his lover leaning over him filled Blair with fear. He struggled against the respirator, raising his hand to try and pull out the annoying tube.

“Leave that alone, you need it to breathe,” Jim said. “Try not to fight it. Take nice, easy breaths. Just like when you meditate.” Gradually, Blair did start breathing easier and Jim was relieved. “Just try to relax. It’s all over and you’re safe here.”

The nurse tapped him on the shoulder and leaned in to ask Blair some questions. “Are you in a lot of pain?” When Blair nodded hesitantly, she nodded in sympathy. “I’ll get something for you in just a few minutes. Can you do something for me? Can you move your fingers?” she asked, looking down at his bandaged hand. Blair slowly wiggled his fingers, although his forehead beaded with sweat at the pain the action caused. “That’s great! Now, I know that you don’t like that tube in your throat but I’m going to ask you to bear with it for a little while longer. We need to keep your oxygen levels up and that’s helping to do that,” she explained. “Okay, now, I’m going to get something for your pain and you are going to relax and try to sleep,” she said, patting Blair’s arm and smiling warmly at him.

After the nurse left the room, Rafe spoke, shaking his head, “I don’t know how you do it, kid. One look at those baby blues and the women just line up to do your bidding.”

“It’s a good thing he has vowed only to use his powers for good and not evil,” Jim teased.

The nurse quickly reappeared and administered something through the IV port. Within moments, Blair’s eyelids began to close and his breathing deepened. Jim stood over the bed for a few minutes before he returned to the chair.

A few hours later, Captain Banks arrived to take his turn sitting with Jim and Blair. He also brought coffee and food, along with a change of clothes for Jim and a disposable razor. “I figured you might want to clean up,” Simon explained.

While Jim was in the bathroom, Blair opened his eyes and looked around. Not seeing Jim, he reached out to raise the head of the bed. Immediately, Simon stood up and studied him. Blair could see the concern in the older man’s eyes and wished that he could speak to him.

“How are you feeling this morning, Sandburg? What do you know? I can finally get a word in,” Simon teased. “Jim’s in the bathroom getting cleaned up. I brought him a change of clothes. I would have brought one for you but you don’t have anything at the station. You might consider leaving something there for emergencies.”

Blair nodded, the only response he could really make, and the captain continued.

“We have both of the kids involved in holding cells. They’ll be arraigned this morning. Father Daniel has urged them to confess,” Banks said, oblivious to the terror his final word caused.

Even as the fear washed over him, Blair realized that Simon had said ‘both’ of the kids who were involved. That meant that they hadn’t gotten the third one! Just then, Jim came out of the bathroom, freshly shaved and dressed in clean clothes.

Jim’s smile faded immediately at the raw fear burning in Blair’s eyes. He moved to the other side of the bed, opposite Simon, and reached out to put his hand on his lover’s shoulder. Blair flinched like he’d been burned and Jim’s hand hovered, frozen in place.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Jim asked.

Before they could even work out a system for figuring out what was bothering Blair, the doctor arrived and asked them to step out of the room so he could examine his patient. Jim didn’t like it but he left when the nurse touched his arm and asked him to step out of the way.

The doctor removed the tube from his throat and Blair coughed and gagged for several moments. The nurse gently wiped his face with a damp washcloth and offered him some ice chips to soothe his tender throat. When the doctor asked Blair to roll onto his side, he groaned in pain. The nurse took his arm and helped him, rubbing his shoulder soothingly while the doctor gently examined the bruised and abraded areas on his back. Blair flinched and hissed when the gloved hands pressed on the area near his kidneys. Finally, the doctor was finished and Blair was allowed to lie on his back again.

“You have some very deep bruising over your kidneys and you are passing blood in your urine. We are going to keep you on antibiotics and keep pushing fluids so that they can heal. I’m going to leave the catheter in until at least tomorrow morning so we can monitor your kidneys,” the doctor explained. When Blair nodded, he went on to examine Blair’s hands. He cut the thick layers of gauze away and gently peeled the pads away from the incisions. “The nails penetrated one of the small bones, so you’ll have some pain. There was also a lot of strain on the connective tissues. It should heal without any permanent damage. When the swelling goes away, I’ll have a therapist come down and show you some exercises you can do to regain flexibility.” The doctor continued on, oblivious to the fact that his patient wasn’t listening or even looking at his hands. He moved on to examine Blair’s feet and explained that there was no bone damage and that the tissue damage was minimal. He finished up by asking the nurse to recover the wounds. “I’ll see you in the morning and we’ll talk about discharging you, how does that sound?” he asked. “Mr. Sandburg?”

Blair startled slightly and looked up at the doctor. “Fine. That’s fine,” he agreed.

“Very good. Just call the nurse if you need anything,” he said as he removed his gloves and turned to wash his hands.

Jim looked up expectantly when the doctor came out of the room. “Well, how is he?” he asked.

“He is doing as well as can be expected. The wounds in his hands and feet are healing nicely. He’ll need some minor physical therapy to regain full flexibility in his hands. His kidneys were badly bruised and he’s passing blood in his urine but it appears to be decreasing. I would suggest that he see a qualified PTSD counselor when he’s discharged,” the doctor replied.

“PTSD?” Simon repeated.

“Yes, the nurses said that he’s had nightmares and it might be beneficial to him to speak to someone about what happened,” the doctor said.

“We’ll make sure he does,” Jim replied.

When they went back into the room, Blair was lying on his side with his back to the door. The nurse was talking softly to him as she wrapped his hands in sterile gauze. Jim dialed his hearing up in time to hear Blair’s raspy voice asking for an extra blanket.

“He’s always cold,” Jim said as he opened the closet and took another blanket from the shelf. He heard the soft gasp and the spike in Blair’s heart rate and cringed at having startled him. Shaking out the blanket, Jim carefully draped it over his lover, pulling it up to cover his shoulders.

The nurse left and an awkward silence descended. Each of the three men was at a loss over what to say. Finally, Blair decided to ask the question that was screaming inside of his head.

“So, you only got two of them?”

“Yeah, we got the two that were in the barn with you,” Simon said, “Were there others?”

“Did you get Stephanie? She was in my Anthro. 201 class,” Blair said softly.

“Yes, and we also got Michael Turnbull,” Simon replied.

“But you didn’t get the other guy?” Blair asked.

“What other guy?” Jim asked.

“There was another guy,” Blair said.

“Can you describe him?” Simon asked.

“Can we do this later? I’m really, really tired.”

Simon and Jim looked at each other, puzzled over Blair’s sudden loss of interest in the man who had hurt him. But they did decide to honor his request and sank into the chairs they had been using. The nurse came back a while later to check on him and suggested that they take a walk and get something to eat. Jim opened his mouth to say that he wasn’t hungry but his stomach chose that moment to growl, reminding him that he hadn’t had a decent meal in a while. They reluctantly left the room and headed for the elevator.

When the nurse gently touched Blair’s wrist to take his pulse, she was surprised to see his eyes open and shining with tears. “Are you hurting that bad, hon?” she asked. Blair shook his head and buried his face in the pillow in his arms. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I just want to be alone for a little while,” Blair replied. “I don’t want any more visitors.”

The nurse patted his arm gently. “Then I’ll tell your friends to go home for a while. How does that sound?” she asked. She was rewarded with a wan smile when the patient lifted his face from the pillow. “You just push that button if you need anything.”

The elevator let them out on the first floor and they followed the signs to the cafeteria. Simon took a tray and began to move along the steam table, choosing meatloaf with mashed potatoes and gravy and a helping of green beans. Jim, on the other hand, chose the turkey and stuffing and a salad. When the captain raised his eyebrows at the totally Sandburg-like choices, Jim just shrugged.

“What can I say? The kid’s rubbing off on me,” he said as they moved to the drink dispenser. After paying for their meals, they took a table in a quiet corner. Jim immediately tucked into his food, his stomach telling him that it really wanted more. When he’d worn the sharp edge off of his hunger, Jim finally paused to speak. “We have to find out who that third person was. And I want to talk to the prosecutor. This attack falls under the hate crimes provision.”

“That makes it a federal crime, Jim,” Simon said. “Are you sure you want to hand it off to the feds? Besides, Sandburg’s not gay.”

“But they thought he was. That’s why they went after him.”

“Alright, I’ll put Conner and Rafe on it. You’re too close. I don’t want even a hint of impropriety in handling this mess,” Simon declared.

They got back on the elevator and returned to Blair’s floor. The nurse caught them as soon as they set foot in the hall and told them that Blair had asked not to have visitors for a while.

“We aren’t visitors, we’re his friends,” Jim protested. “I’m not leaving until he tells me with his own mouth that he doesn’t want me here!” he added, turning and striding quickly down the hall to Blair’s room. The nurse jogged along behind him, protesting all the way.

Once inside of the room, the nurse fell silent. Blair still lay on his side with his back to the door but Jim knew he wasn’t asleep. His lover was too tense. Ellison stopped beside the bed and reached out to Blair’s shoulder.

“Don’t … just don’t touch me. Go home, Jim. Get some sleep. I’ll be alright,” Blair whispered too softly for anyone but his Sentinel to hear.

Jim’s shoulders slumped slightly as he turned away from Blair’s bedside and left the room. He was almost out the door when he smelled the tears. Confused by his lover’s unusual behavior, he made himself keep walking until he reached the elevators again. Simon hurried to catch up with him.

At the station, Jim stood outside of the interrogation room while Connor questioned Stephanie. The girl was crying, sobbing and apologizing for her part in the attack, but she wouldn’t give up the third person. In the other room, Rafe was grilling Michael, who was also not willing to give up the name. Finally, Ellison couldn’t stand there and listen to the lies any longer. He took a step back and had opened the door before Simon could stop him.

“You think you’re a brave young man, don’t you? Beating a defenseless man who had never done anything to you! In case your lawyer hasn’t informed you, what you two did qualifies as a hate crime. That’s a federal charge! That means mandatory sentencing and you’ll do every day of the time!” Jim growled as he glared at the arrogant young man.

“Hate crime?” the lawyer asked. “I wasn’t informed that it was a hate crime. Do you have any proof of that?”

“There was a pamphlet. Father Daniel was having a revival against gays. They accused my partner of being gay and they crucified him for it!” Jim yelled at the stunned man.

“Crucified? Now I think that’s a little rough, Detective. I understand that Mr. Sandburg was beaten but-”

“They put nails through his feet and hands and tied a purple cloth around his waist! What would you call it?” Jim asked. He pinned the lawyer with an angry glare until the man finally looked away. “Now, who else helped you?” When Michael sank back in his chair and refused to speak, Jim slammed his open hand down on the table before storming from the room.

It only took hearing the words ‘hate crime’ and Stephanie’s attorney began hissing in her ear. In between sobs, the young woman told them that her boyfriend Matthew had been there too. Her attorney immediately began to plead for leniency in light of her cooperation. Jim only glared before leaving the room.

“Where are you going?” Simon asked.

“I’m going to pick that little bastard up and throw him in a cell,” Jim answered as he punched Matthew’s name into the computer to get the address.

“Stand down, Detective. I’ll have a unit pick him up and bring him in.”

“Captain!” Jim protested.

“You heard me. Stand down!” Simon growled, stepping right up into Ellison’s face.

***

Alone in the hospital room, Blair cried. He didn’t know where to go or what to do. Living with Jim was the happiest he could remember being in his life. He would have to find another place to live. To do that, he needed money, money he didn’t have. He was just barely getting enough on his grants to keep gas in his car and clothes on his back. He thought about staying at his office at the university, which would do for a while. With that plan in place, he let the emptiness carry him away.

He woke up screaming! Two nurses and an orderly burst into the room, rushing to restrain him before he climbed over the rails and fell out of bed. In his hysterical state, he was screaming the same words over and over.

“I confess! I’m a sinner! I confess! I’m a sinner!” Blair continued to shout until the sedative pumped into his IV took effect. Even as they repositioned him on the bed, he continued to beg for forgiveness.

***

Matthew Hurst was led to the interrogation room between two street cops. He never saw the enraged detective until the man slammed him against the wall.

“I’d like to take a length of garden hose to you, you little bastard!” Jim growled.

“Ellison! Stand down!” Captain Banks shouted. “Take him down!” he ordered, motioning for Rafe and H. to move forward. They surged forward, grabbing Jim by the arms and forcing him to let Matthew go. “Cuff him and put him in a room until he settles down!” Simon shouted. Rafe tossed him a questioning look and saw the hard determination in the Captain’s face. Reluctantly, he reached back for his cuffs and secured them to Jim’s wrists. It took both of them and one of the cops to push Ellison into the empty interrogation room.

“Get these off of me!” Jim yelled. He threw himself at the door, thumping it soundly with his shoulder. In his rage, he kicked the chairs, sending them crashing into the walls. He kicked them again, knocking the slats from the chairs. When he had reduced the chairs to kindling, he sat on the corner of the table. “Some Sentinel I turned out to be. I can’t protect my guide. I can’t protect my lover,” he whispered to himself. “Maybe that’s why he can’t stand for me to touch him.”

Simon silently observed Jim from the other side of the glass. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d seen the man so out of control. He winced as Ellison destroyed the wooden chairs, wondering how he was going to explain that to the Chief of Police. When Jim’s head hung down and he began talking softly to himself, Simon thought it might be safe to go in and talk to him. He was surprised to hear Ellison speaking to him.

“I’m alright, Simon. You can come in now,” Jim said. He’d extended his hearing to see if his boss was in the next room interrogating Hurst or in the hall watching. He took an educated guess that Banks was watching him through the glass. The door knob turned a moment later, letting him know that Simon had heard him.

Captain Banks stood there in the doorway, studying the other man critically. “I could suspend you for that, you know,” he finally said.

“And I deserve it,” Jim admitted.

“But I’m gonna chalk it up to stress and send you home. I want you to get some sleep before Blair is discharged from the hospital.” Simon stepped closer and Jim eased off of the table to offer his bound hands. As soon as the cuffs were removed, Jim rubbed his wrists. “Just so you know, the kid confessed. He pissed his pants when you threw him into the wall. His lawyer is gearing up to file for police brutality but I wouldn’t worry about it too much. The little worm has about 14 parking tickets and I’m going to make them go away for him,” Simon explained with a grin.

Driving home from the station, Jim pondered on the situation with Blair. His lover was the one who was always talking about his feelings. Right now, Jim really needed someone to talk to about what he was feeling. He was guilty of not protecting his lover, of not finding him before those religious fanatics drove nails through his hands and feet. He was heartily ashamed that he couldn’t figure out how to comfort Blair. It was always so easy when Blair offered comfort; it came so naturally to his lover. He pulled up in front of the loft and shut off the truck.

***

Blair stirred restlessly. His back hurt and his feet and hands throbbed. He was desperately lonely and wanted Jim to hold him. As soon as he thought that, he shuddered, realizing that he was going back on his promise not to return to his sodomite ways. Curling his bandaged hands to his chest, he turned his face to the pillow and cried.

***

When Jim awoke from his nap, he was feeling slightly better. He was ready to try to talk to Blair, to find out what was bothering him. He knew there was more to it than the physical, Incacha had told him that much. He just had to get Blair talking.

He stopped at the little Greek restaurant and picked up Blair’s favorite dish. He had already brewed some of the tea that Blair said was calming. He carried both the bag from the restaurant and the thermos into the hospital. The nurses had changed shifts, so the one who threw him out earlier was gone. He hurried past the nurse’s station and headed for Blair’s room.

Blair was awake and watching TV when Jim arrived. Sandburg gave him a wan smile upon seeing the takeout bag. He glanced guiltily at the uneaten tray on the bedside table.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. Simon sent me home and I fell asleep.”

“You needed the sleep,” Blair said.

Jim put the Styrofoam carton on the table and opened it. Blair inhaled deeply and groaned at the fantastic aroma. His stomach growled in appreciation and he raised his hands only to remember that he couldn’t hold anything because of the thick bandages.

“Hey! What happened here?” Jim asked, noticing the new, thicker layer of gauze around Blair’s hands. He reached but Blair drew them back.

“I … had another nightmare and I … kinda broke the incisions open.”

Blair looked at Jim before blinking back the tears that he felt forming in his eyes. He was frustrated because he couldn’t even feed himself. Anger welled up and he shoved the table away. He tried to turn away but strong hands took hold of his shoulders and stopped him. Blair tried to push his lover away. He didn’t want Jim to hold him, he couldn’t afford to get used to being loved again! He drew back and began to pummel the broad chest until he was drawn in close and strong arms closed around him. Jim held him until he stopped struggling, then he just held him. The emotional, intimate moment was broken by Blair’s stomach growling. He pulled back, looking down as his cheeks colored.

“Sounds like you need to eat, Chief,” Jim said as he reached out to pull the table back up to the bed. He took the fork and dipped up a bite of food. Blair leaned forward and took the food, meeting Jim’s eyes and seeing only tenderness there. Jim continued to feed Blair until he said he was thirsty, then he poured him some tea.

“Did you make this?” Blair asked after several swallows of the tea.

“I can brew tea,” Jim replied.

Blair finished all of the food in the carton and a good portion of the tea before he sank back against the pillows and sighed. He rubbed his stomach with his bandaged right hand.

“Feel better now?” Jim asked.

“Much!” Blair agreed. “Thanks, man.”

Jim leaned forward and brushed his lips over Blair’s. Instead of participating, Blair suddenly pulled away, his heart racing beneath his breast. He turned his head and tried to push Jim away.

“Blair, talk to me, please. You need to talk about what happened,” Jim urged.

“I can’t! I just can’t talk about it right now!”

“It might help you to deal with it.”

“I don’t want to deal with it right now!” Blair shouted. “Now get out! I don’t want you here!”

Jim recoiled like he’d been slapped. He thought they were connecting; Blair had let himself be held. They had shared a moment and then … Blair just snapped. Jim slid off of the bed and stared at his lover. When Blair didn’t look back, Jim left the room.

***

It was a long, miserable night for both of them. Jim spent the time pacing angrily in the loft. He smashed several beer bottles against the back of the kitchen counter because he knew Blair would be disappointed in him if he got drunk rather than dealing with his emotions. He spent the next couple of hours cleaning up the mess. While he was at it, he drug out the rest of the cleaning supplies and tackled the rest of the loft. He mixed up a vinegar and water solution to clean the glass and went to work. When he finished with that, he scrubbed the floors, then moved on to the woodwork.

At the hospital, Blair cried himself to sleep. Several hours later, he woke up screaming. Bonnie, the night nurse, sat with him afterward. She pulled his head to her shoulder and rocked him until he went back to sleep. The next time the nightmare started, she was there, whispering to him and waking him up again. She stayed with him the rest of her shift, playing chess. Blair learned that her son was gifted and she learned to play to keep up with him.

Jim called the hospital in the morning to try to find out when Blair would be discharged. The nurse said that the doctor hadn’t been in to see him yet, so she didn’t know. She took his number and promised to call him when the doctor finished with Blair. The phone rang less than an hour later and he got in the truck to pick up his lover.

He tossed Blair’s bag on the foot of the bed. The doctor had already been there and gone and Blair had only a single layer of gauze around his palms. Jim helped Blair on with his socks and slipped his sneakers on after he dressed himself. While they were waiting for the nurse with the discharge papers, Blair sprang the news on Jim.

“What do you mean ‘you’re not going back to the loft’?” Jim asked.

“Just for a while. I need time to process and I-”

“Process? You need to process? Why can’t you process at home?”

“Jim, I … I just need some space,” Blair answered, giving his lover his best pleading look.

“Fine, sleep in your old room but come home,” Jim begged.

“I can’t!” Blair shouted, coming to his feet and wincing in pain. “I can’t go through any more!”

“Am I interrupting?” the nurse asked, peering curiously into the room.

“You still have to go to the station and give a statement,” Jim said.

“And you’ll let me go after that?” Blair countered.

“If that’s what you want.” Jim didn’t know what else to say or do. He couldn’t force Blair to stay with him. He could only hope that Blair would come to his senses.

At the station, Jim hung back while Blair stepped out of the elevator. He moved unobtrusively to his desk and began to review the files in his basket. Captain Banks stepped out of his office and strode over to the young observer.

“You’re here to give your statement?” Simon asked. When Blair nodded mutely, the captain looked around the room. “Are you comfortable talking to Rafe?” Seeing Blair nod again, Simon patted him on the shoulder. “You can use my office. Take as long as you need.” He saw the gratitude in Blair’s eyes and patted the young man again. Rafe grabbed a tape recorder and a legal pad and made his way to the captain’s office. Blair limped into the room and lowered himself carefully into a chair. Simon looked toward Ellison and raised his eyebrows. Jim looked past Banks to Blair before shaking his head. Simon looked from Jim to Blair and shrugged his shoulder as he pulled the door closed.

“Something you want to talk about?” Simon asked, sitting on the chair next to Jim’s desk.

“Blair wants to move out of the loft.”

The statement hung there while Simon tried to come up with a suitable response.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, he won’t tell me,” Jim replied.

“Is it because of those people thinking he’s gay?” Simon asked.

“I don’t know!” Jim repeated in exasperation. “I tried to get him to tell me last night and he threw me out of his room. He won’t even talk to me about what they did to him.” He looked around at the curious gazes being directed his way and took a deep breath.

“Where is he going?”

“I don’t know! He hasn’t said!”

The door to Simon’s office opened and Blair gingerly stepped out. He avoided Jim’s gaze and headed for the doors out of Major Crimes. Rafe followed him out, only pausing to drop off the tablet and the recorder.

“I’m taking some personal time,” he told Banks as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the elevators. Ellison and the captain watched them leave.

‘At least I know where he’ll be,’ Jim thought. He spent the rest of the day reviewing files since Simon told him to stay on the desk. Every so often, he would glance over at the tablet and clench his teeth as he restrained himself from picking it up and reading what Blair had said. Simon eventually removed the temptation, taking everything into his office, but he was still aching to know what had Blair so rattled that he wouldn’t return to the loft.

That evening, when Simon finally told him to go home, Jim headed for Rafe’s house. He parked in the alley two doors down and settled in to wait. If Blair wouldn’t come home, Jim would just have to protect him right where he was. It took him a while to locate his lover, systematically tuning out the ordinary neighborhood noises until he found the one voice, the one heart beat that he had come to depend on. Blair was cooking. Jim could hear him tasting things and talking to himself about what spices he needed to improve the flavor. He was surprised to hear Blair talking to Simon; he hadn’t known that the captain was going to be there.

Blair looked up from where he was chopping celery and smiled at Captain Banks. Rafe had told him that Simon wanted to come over and Blair immediately offered to cook supper for the three of them. It was the least he could do since he couldn’t pay Rafe for letting him stay there. He poured Simon a cup of coffee and they discussed ‘safe’ topics while waiting for the meal to be finished.

Rafe shook his head when he looked at the table. Blair had certainly outdone himself. He knew that he had linen napkins, they had been a gift from a former girlfriend, but he had never actually used them. The table was set with real dishes, not the usual paper plates he used, and there were neatly folded napkins at each place. While Rafe knew that Jim thought Blair had confided in him; in truth, the kid had only said that he was going to stay in his office at Rainier and that prompted the offer of a place to stay. Blair’s statement consisted of his kidnapping and beating, nothing else. He denied that they had accused him of being gay and said that he couldn’t remember much of what had happened. Rafe knew that the kid was lying, that was why he had left the notes at the office, and he wasn’t going to write it up until he got the truth.

The food was excellent and Blair blushed at the compliments his friends lavished on him. He was also relieved that neither of them had pressed him to talk about his ordeal. He made a practice of keeping his hands in his lap when he wasn’t eating or drinking something and found that it stifled his normal thought process. He was grateful that the other men carried the bulk of the conversation beyond praising his cooking.

When they finished eating, Rafe stood up and began collecting the dishes. Blair protested that he would take care of it until reminded that he couldn’t keep his hands in the dishwater because of the stitches. Simon asked if there was any beer and suggested that they go into the living room while Rafe cleared the table and tidied the dishes. Blair was uneasy about the proposal but he went because of the commanding tone Simon took when he said it.

Jim heard the way Blair’s heart sped up at Simon’s suggestion and he shifted slightly in the seat. He had been sitting there with his legs stretched across the bench seat ever since he’d arrived over an hour earlier. He could almost visualize their movement inside the house as he heard Simon settling on the leather sofa. Blair’s heart was racing and, from the sound of it, he was pacing.

“Sandburg, I read your statement and I need to talk to you about it,” Simon said as he watched the young observer moving nervously between the room’s windows.

“I told Rafe everything that I remember, Captain,” Blair replied, his emphasis on the title expressing the way he felt about the topic.

“Blair, please. Sit down and talk to me. Off the record.” Simon waited until Blair lit nervously on the other end of the sofa. “There’s more to it than you told Rafe, isn’t there?” he asked. “You need to talk about it. And I need to know if you and Jim can still work together.”

“Why couldn’t we work together?” Blair asked. “Has he said something?”

“No, no. But you don’t want to go home, I was just wondering if there was something wrong between you.”

Immediately, Blair popped up and began to pace along the wall, chewing on his thumbnail. He was debating how much to tell Simon. He and Jim had discussed ‘outing’ themselves to the Captain in case something bad happened but they had never found the right time. He didn’t think he had the right to blow their cover without at least warning Jim. On the other hand, it wasn’t just his sexual orientation that they had shaken, it was his religious beliefs. He had never really claimed Judaism in any meaningful way. He was conflicted about what he believed. Naomi had never given him any formal religious training and she flitted from one new-wave guru to the next on a whim.

“Blair?” Simon said, interrupting the younger man’s rumination. “Could you try it out loud?”

“Oh … okay. Umm, you know that they were having a revival? And it was about … gay people. They thought that Jim and I were … a couple, and they … wanted me to … confess my sins to them and ask for absolution.”

Jim’s own heart raced as he strained to hear what his lover was saying. He shifted slightly in the seat, turning his head to better pick up the softly-spoken words. Before Blair could continue, a flash of light in his rearview mirror blinded him. He cursed as his hands came up to massage his aching eyes. A few seconds later, he was able to see that there was a police cruiser coming down the alley. He groped in his pocket for his ID and rolled the window down. When the car was almost directly behind him, he slid his arm out of the window with the leather case open. They pulled up alongside slowly, until the officer in the passenger seat recognized him.

“Hey Ellison, what’s up?” Officer Franklin asked.

“Nothing, just a little covert surveillance,” Jim replied. “Did someone call?”

“Yeah, one of the neighbors reported a strange vehicle loitering behind a house on this block.”

“I shouldn’t be here long,” Jim said. “I’ll clear out in an hour or so.”

“Alright, I’ll have the dispatcher call them back and let them know.”

Jim watched the car as it pulled away, extending his hearing to listen to Franklin coding the call and asking the dispatcher to tell the caller that it was a police officer in the alley. As soon as the car turned at the end of the alley, Jim turned to listening to Blair.

Simon shifted uneasily as the young observer recounted how his captors had promised him a merciful death. He cringed upon hearing that they had given him something that dulled his senses before they nailed his hands and feet to the boards. Blair was shaking and sobbing softly after telling about the ordeal and Simon got up to comfort him. Putting his arms around Sandburg, Simon assured him that he would always be there if he wanted to talk about it. Blair clung to him, trembling and crying, for several minutes before he began to regain control. Finally, Simon reached into his pocket to hand Blair a handkerchief.

The soft sobs wrung Jim’s heart and he cursed that he had missed whatever it was that Blair confided in Simon. He was relieved to know that the captain was comforting the younger man, knowing that it would mean a lot to Blair when he was able to start putting things behind him. He was so distracted by his own thoughts that he missed anything else that might have been said, only refocusing on Blair in time to hear him bid Simon a good night. Jim listened to Banks’ car starting and pulling away and then heard Blair telling Rafe that he was going to bed. Rafe assured Blair that he was there in case he needed to talk and Jim could just imagine the appreciative smile his lover gave the other man. He stayed only long enough to hear Blair’s heart assume the steady, even rhythm of sleep before he started the truck and headed for the loft.

***

Blair jerked awake, barely biting off a cry of alarm. His back ached and he had forgotten to take a pain pill before going to bed. Not wanting to risk waking his host, he tried to find a comfortable position and struggled to go back to sleep. He tossed and turned, unable to relax and unused to sleeping alone. He missed having a big, strong, warm body to snuggle up with.

In the morning, Blair was up and ready to go when Rafe went to work. Turning down the offer of a ride, Blair caught the bus to get to Rainier. He left the bandages off of his hands, realizing that the students wouldn’t be able to see the tiny stitches from their seats. Forgoing the pain pill again, he tossed back the antibiotics and a couple of Tylenol and washed them down with a bottle of water. The Tylenol would take the edge off of his pain, allowing him to teach as long as he didn’t get too enthusiastic about anything. He knew that his friends had questioned the students about his whereabouts and decided to tell them that he had gone willingly with Stephanie and her friends. That would eliminate any need to explain his injuries.

After class, Blair was truly miserable. His back ache was becoming unbearable. He had left his pain pills at Rafe’s house and didn’t want to bother the detective to get them back. Knowing that Jim would be at the station, he decided to go by the loft and gather some of his clothes. It would be easier if he didn’t have to get into a confrontation with his lover. The bus ride to the loft only exacerbated his back ache and when he saw the ‘out of order’ sign on the elevator, he wanted to sit down and cry. It was a long, slow climb up to the third floor. By the time he reached the door to 307, he could barely stand. Fitting the key into the knob, he let himself into the loft and made his way to the nearest couch. Once he lay down, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get up on his own for a while.

***

At the station, Jim kept glancing at the clock. Rafe had come in that morning and told him that Blair would be in after his early class. Jim knew that the class had been over for nearly two hours and still there was no sign of his lover. Anxiety churned in his stomach, worsened by the fact that he hadn’t had anything but coffee since some time the day before. Glancing across the room, he saw that Rafe was also checking his watch and looking toward the elevator. Simon stuck his head out and looked around before returning to his desk without comment. It was a slow day at the station, the worst kind of day to be waiting for someone.

When another hour passed with no news of Blair, Jim called the university. He convinced another TA to go see if Sandburg was in his office. She returned to the phone to tell him that the office was empty and Jim’s anxiety ratcheted up. He managed to catch Rafe’s eye and they came to an agreement. Simultaneously, they rose from their chairs and headed for the elevator.

Another hour passed and Jim was going out of his mind with worry. They had checked everywhere Blair could possibly be … except-

“Let’s go by the loft. Maybe he went there to gather some of his things,” Jim suggested. Even before the vehicle had come to a complete stop, Jim’s senses told him that Blair was upstairs asleep. He and Rafe raced up the steps and into the apartment, skidding to a halt at the sight that greeted them.

Blair was just beginning to dream, his forehead drawn as he turned his head from side to side. A soft moan had Jim moving to kneel in front of the couch. He hesitated to touch the younger man for fear of scaring him. As the dream deepened, Blair began to mumble softly. Only a Sentinel could hear the desperate pleas.

“No more. Don’t hurt me. Please stop,” Blair whispered. “No. Not Jim. Can’t give up Jim. No. It hurts. I love him. Can’t live without him. Just kill me and be done with it.”

Rafe reached out, intending to press his palm to Blair’s forehead to check for fever. Jim caught hold of his wrist and stopped him.

“Just go back to the station and let Simon know I’ve got him,” Jim said softly.

“But he might need to go back to the hospital,” Rafe protested.

“Let me handle it,” he looked into the other man’s eyes, “Please?”

Reluctantly, Rafe nodded and Jim let go of his arm. He slowly made his way to the door, turning back at the last minute to see Ellison gathering Blair into his arms. He saw how Blair clung to Jim, saw how naturally the older man handled his injured roommate. He locked the door as he left, nodding to himself and hoping that Jim could get through to Blair.

Carrying Blair up the steps to their room, Jim gently laid him on the bed. Blair whimpered in pain and curled up, clutching at one of the big, fluffy pillows. Jim carefully eased the tennis shoes from his lover’s feet and covered him with a blanket. He had felt the heat of the bruises on Blair’s back and knew that the younger man was in pain. Jim left Blair in bed and went down to the kitchen to brew some tea. After raiding the medicine cabinet, he dissolved a pain pill into the tea. It was the same as the prescription they had given Blair at the hospital. He cooled the tea in the freezer for a minute before he hurried back to the bedroom. Toeing off his own shoes, Jim slid into bed and carefully molded his body to Blair’s. His lover turned almost instinctively and Jim offered him the tea.

“I need you to drink this for me, Chief,” he said softly. Even only partially conscious, Blair trusted Jim and drank from the cup held to his lips. The taste was familiar and he drained the cup before sinking back into Jim’s arms.

As the pain receded, Blair slipped into a deeper sleep. His dream was of the panther and the wolf. He saw that the panther protected the wolf and it was good. Incacha came out of the temple and invited him to come and sit on the stone steps. While he watched, the wolf whimpered and the panther nuzzled against him until he settled again.

“You are in turmoil,” the shaman said.

“I have doubts,” Blair countered.

“You doubt your place with your Sentinel?”

“I am not only his Guide.”

“No, you are also the most important part of him. You are the center of his heart,” Incacha said.

“But it is wrong for me to have that place,” Blair replied.

“Who has told you that it is wrong?”

“Those kids, the ones who hurt me, they say it is a sin. The church, both Christian and Jewish, condemns a relationship like ours.”

“The spirits do not condemn you,” Incacha explained. “They simply accept that you are meant to be as you are. What would happen to the Sentinel if you were not in his heart?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I used to be just his Guide but I don’t know if I can go back to that relationship. I don’t think I can survive if I can’t love him,” Blair answered.

“Then it seems that you have already found your answer.”

‘Confess and I’ll grant you a merciful death!’ A strange voice called from the jungle. Blair gasped and shuddered. He saw that the panther was alert, standing protectively between the trees and the sleeping wolf.

“What do I do?” Blair asked of Incacha.

“Do as the voice demands,” the shaman said, coming to his feet and stepping back toward the temple.

“But he’ll hurt me!” Blair cried, his heart quaking at the thought of enduring another beating.

“Confess what is in your heart, Shaman of the Great City. Your Blessed Protector will see that no more harm comes to you,” Incacha said as he faded into the dark opening of the temple.

“I love him and I can’t live without him!” Blair cried, both to the Chopec and to the voice.

Blair began to struggle in his sleep and Jim soothed him. The whimpers turned to words on the young Guide’s lips but he made no sound. A rumble of thunder echoed from the mountains and Blair shuddered again. Suddenly, Blair’s eyes opened and he cried out, “I love him and I can’t live without him!” The thunder seemed to answer his words, rumbling softly as it began to rain. Blair blinked and looked around, wondering how he had gotten up to the bedroom when he could barely move.

“It’s just a storm,” Jim said softly.

At the sound of Jim’s voice, Blair remembered the words from the dream. His lover was his Blessed Protector and he wouldn’t willingly allow anyone to hurt him. Blair’s eyes filled with tears and he sank into Jim’s arms.

Jim held his lover as he cried, gently kissing his forehead and stroking his dark, curly hair. He knew that this was more emotional pain than physical and he waited for the storm to pass. Gradually, Blair’s cries grew softer and his desperately clutching hands relaxed. As the rain tapered off, Blair drifted in twilight between waking and sleeping. He kept his ear to Jim’s chest, letting the soothing sound lull him.

When his cell phone rang some time later, Jim reached for it. Blair was not asleep but he was close and Jim didn’t want the noise to disturb him.

“It’s okay. It’s probably Simon,” Blair whispered.

Jim opened the phone and pressed it to his ear. “Ellison,” he said.

“It’s Simon. Is Blair still with you?”

“Yeah, he’s right here.”

“Rafe was worried that maybe the kid had overdone it and needed to go to the hospital,” Simon explained. “And since your truck is here …”

“He’s fine, Simon. He was almost asleep when you called.”

“Does he want to talk to me?” Blair asked.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Blair had to be damned close to Jim for his voice to come through the cell phone so clearly. “So, everything is okay between you two?” Banks asked.

“Yeah, Simon. We’re fine. Would you mind dropping by in an hour or so? There’s something Blair and I need to discuss with you.”

“Should I bring the truck?”

“Yeah, I’ll drive you back to the station afterward,” Jim agreed.

After he hung up the phone, Blair sighed and shifted slightly. “I guess this means were coming out to Simon?” he asked.

“I think it’s for the best, Chief. I don’t want you to think that I’m ashamed of us.”

“I never thought that!” Blair protested.

“Just the same, I want it out in the open. And I want you to tell us exactly what they did to you in that barn,” Jim said.

Simon arrived nearly an hour later. Jim invited him in and asked him to sit down. Blair came out of the bathroom, having been soaking in a warm tub, wearing sweat pants and one of Jim’s sweat shirts. He greeted the captain in a subdued manner before taking a seat on the couch. Jim sat next to him and Blair tensed.

Jim cleared his throat before speaking, “Simon, Blair and I are a couple.”

Dark eyes moved from Jim to Blair and back to Jim before Simon nodded, “And?”

Blair’s breath exploded from his lungs, “You knew?”

“Not for certain, but I thought you might be,” Simon confessed. “Does that have anything to do with why you didn’t want to stay with Jim?” he asked of Blair.

“Not exactly,” Blair admitted.

Over the course of the next hour, Blair told Captain Banks all of the gruesome details of his ordeal. At one point, Blair was so overcome by tears that Jim pulled him around and cuddled him until he was able to continue. Simon made notes, mentally reviewing the pictures that the hospital had taken of Blair’s injuries in the ER. Blair’s tearful recollection of having his hands nailed to the board turned the hardened police captain’s stomach. One of the paramedics had taken pictures of the scene before they removed Blair from the make-shift cross so he vividly remembered what the younger man was describing.

When the entire incident had been thoroughly detailed, Simon remembered the pain pills that Rafe had given him earlier. Jim took the bottle and insisted that Blair take one immediately. Blair, in typical Sandburg fashion, announced that he didn’t need it but Jim insisted.

“I’m going to get him settled for the night, then I’ll drive you home, Simon,” Jim said as he helped his lover to his feet.

“I can go to bed by myself,” Blair grumbled. “Go on and take Simon home.”

Jim hesitated until Blair actually set his foot on the bottom step before he was able to move toward the door. He turned back before closing it, to make sure that Blair made it to the top safely. Simon was already on the lower landing by the time he locked the door and started down.

In the truck, Simon considered everything Blair had said to them, “He needs to talk to someone.”

“I know.”

Scrubbing his hand over his face, Simon exhaled, “God, what a thing for him to go through.”

Blair slid into bed and snuggled up to Jim’s pillow, knowing that his lover would have to wake him to reclaim it. As the pain pill blunted the ache in his back and the emotional release had eased the pain in his heart, he drifted into a deep sleep.

Jim teased his pillow out of Blair’s arms and plumped it up carefully before curling up next to his slumbering lover. He had dropped Simon at home and made a beeline back home. The Captain had agreed to push the DA to try the three who had kidnapped Blair under the hate crimes statute. After hearing it all for himself there was really no other course for them to take.

Over the next few days, Blair was almost his old self. Only those closest to him noticed the way he tended to efface his hand motions when he talked. The doctor removed the stitches and assured him that the scars would fade to almost nothing with time. Blair also kept his promise to talk to a PTSD counselor. While he was alright in the truck as long as Jim was there, he panicked if left alone for more than a minute if Jim got out of his sight.

Ellison was still castigating himself for finding his lover near to hyperventilating in the locked truck after he got out and went to pick up his dry cleaning. It was second nature to him to say ‘stay in the truck’ when he was only going to be gone a short time. He came out of the shop with his things and his heart nearly stopped at not seeing Blair through the window. Dialing up his hearing, he quickly located the too quick heart rate and the panting, shallow breaths. He rushed to the truck and unlocked the passenger-side door to find Blair huddled on the floor, shaking in terror. Jim went to his knees and coaxed his lover into uncurling from the fetal position. When he thought Blair was ready, he stood up and pulled the smaller man out of the truck and just held him. It took several moments for Blair to realize that they were standing out in the open, on a public sidewalk, and he began to struggle.

The panic attacks were only part of the reason Jim was worried about Blair. Since he had come home from the hospital, Blair wouldn’t let Jim make love to him. He came to bed dressed in layers to discourage intimacy. He wouldn’t shower with Jim or even allow him into the bathroom with him. Jim knew it was a residual effect of the beating but it was still difficult for him to deal with. He wanted to show his young lover that nothing between them had changed but he didn’t know how to go about it without further traumatizing him.

Long days turned into weeks of frustration and cold showers. Blair took to sleeping on the couch because Jim started rutting against him in his sleep. Jim was trying to be patient but his patience had limits. He was just thankful that they could still cuddle while watching television together.

After the spring break, Blair was in his office going over some last minute scheduling changes when a familiar face appeared in his field of vision. Jim had told him that Stephanie had gotten bail and that she was wearing an electronic monitoring device but, somehow, Blair never figured on her returning to Rainier. She seemed nervous as she hesitated in the doorway.

“Mr. Sandburg? The registrar said I had to have your signature on this in order to drop your class without impacting my GPA,” she said, holding out a multi-part form.

His heart was in his throat as he stared at the pale, creamy skin of the back of her hand as she held out the paper. Cold sweat broke out on his face and he couldn’t summon the words to tell her to get the hell out of his office. He sat there, frozen by his fear, until another student crowded into the room, juggling an armload of books and paper. His arrival broke the spell and Blair shot to his feet.

“Excuse me,” he said, bolting from the room and running toward the men’s room. His breakfast came up in hard, painful spasms that left his ears ringing and his ribs sore. He was just groping for a paper towel when the young male student stepped into the restroom.

“Mr. Sandburg? Are you alright?” he asked.

After splashing cold water on his face and drying it with the towels the kid handed him, Blair was able to stand. He realized that he was alone in the room with someone he didn’t know and the panic attack started all over again. The guy seemed to understand, because he backed away and moved so Blair could get to the door if he wanted. It took a few seconds for Blair to process that he was safe enough to look at the kid’s face.

“My name is Brooks Fanning. I’m in your Intro to Anthropology class. My cousin was on a dig in South America with you a few years ago and he said I should speak to you about anything that comes up … if you knew of any digs he could possibly join.”

Finding his voice, Blair thanked Brooks for coming to his aid. He could see that the kid was dying to ask but was too polite to pry. They left the restroom and headed for the stairs to go out of the building. Blair needed some fresh air. He and Brooks sat on one of the benches in the shade and talked about his cousin until someone from the registrar’s office interrupted. She nervously asked him to sign off on the drop papers for Stephanie Morehouse. Blair scribbled his signature on the papers and accepted his copy, crumpling it and tossing it into the nearby trashcan. Brooks had another class to get to but Blair assured him that he would check into upcoming excavations for available positions.

Admitting his panic attack to Jim was hard. As expected, his lover flew into a rage that the young woman had been allowed to return to the university. Blair explained that he would be asked to leave if he took the restraining order his coworkers suggested. The college had very strict policies in that regard, unfortunately they tended to punish the innocent and the guilty alike. He assured Jim that Stephanie had dropped his class and that he was unlikely to run into her in the future.

It was a hectic day at the station and tempers were wearing thin. Jim sent a report to the printer just as the power went out. When it came back seconds later, the report, with all of his hunt-and-peck typing, was gone. Since Blair was working on something with Connor, he called down to Tech Support and demanded that they send someone up right away. Recognizing Ellison’s extension, the supervisor grabbed the first available body and sent them up to Major Crimes. Tony Danitelie didn’t quite know what to make of the funeral dirge he heard from some of the other technicians before the elevator doors closed.

Retrieving the report was a simple matter and Tony had it printed and saved to the correct file number in no time at all. While he was there, he installed a few shortcuts on the desktop that would make it easier for the older detective to navigate the system. It was a patent excuse to stay, as Tony was very interested in Detective Jim Ellison. When he saw the first genuine smile on the handsome face, he was hooked.

Blair stepped out of the elevator and nearly got mowed down by two Narcotics officers pushing their prisoners down the hall. He glared at their backs for a moment before darting across to Major Crimes. When he got into the bullpen, he was surprised to see Jim talking to the new technician from the support office. His eyes immediately took it all in; the way his lover was smiling at the guy, the way the guy was leaning into Jim’s space as he reached across Jim to move the mouse on the desk, the open desire in the guy’s eyes as he watched Jim repeat his actions. It all added up to too much and Blair turned on his heel and left.

Too late, Jim recognized the soft mumbling in the elevator. He had been enjoying talking with the young tech and he hadn’t heard Blair come in. Guilt washed over him, followed immediately by indignation. What right did Blair have to be angry when he was the one refusing to have sex? He rose from his chair, carelessly excusing himself from Tony’s presence and headed for the stairs. He could hear Blair in the elevator, still cursing softly.

“Shit, shit, shit, damn it all to hell and shit!” Blair mumbled. He had to hold on to his anger or he was going to break down and bawl, he just knew it. The elevator doors opened on the main floor and he charged out, past the security desk and onto the sidewalk. He spotted a bus across the street, getting ready to pull away and he darted across to catch it. Throwing himself despondently into a seat, he glanced up just in time to see Jim arrive on the sidewalk looking for him.

The bus pulled away from the curb and Jim stamped his foot in frustration. His Sentinel sight told him that Blair was on the bus. He jammed his hand into his pocket and cursed at having left his keys in the drawer of his desk. He whipped the door open and mounted the steps. Panting and vaguely dizzy, Jim staggered out of the stairwell and hurried to his desk.

“Tell Simon that I’m leaving,” he called over his shoulder. He took the elevator down only because it opened as he stepped into the hall. He paced in the close confines until the car reached the parking garage. He bolted out before the doors had fully opened and raced to his truck.

Anger gave way to despair and Blair scrubbed at the tears that kept welling up in his eyes. He clenched his hands, digging his nails into his palms. He had known that Jim would eventually grow tired of him, he just hadn’t expected it so soon. He was so lost in his misery that he didn’t realize why the bus had stopped until his lover, or former lover, stood over him. He cringed at the hand that Jim held out. Looking around, he saw all of the other passengers looking at him, at them, and he knew that he had to move. Blair stood and walked down the aisle and down the steps to the sidewalk. Jim’s truck was angled to prevent the bus from moving so he hurried to get in so they could go.

Jim chewed on his tongue all the way home rather than light into Blair in the truck. His lover huddled against the passenger door and said nothing. The truck jerked to a stop in front of their building and Blair was out before the engine died. Jim got out and listened as Blair ran up the steps.

Closing the door behind him, Jim looked toward the kitchen where Blair was waiting for water to boil in the tea kettle. He could smell the tears his lover was trying to hide. The kettle barely started to whistle when Blair poured the water over the tea ball in his cup. It was a special blend that he mixed himself to calm and relax him. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

“So,” Jim said.

“So,” Blair countered, “Is that my replacement?”

“Replacement? What are you talking about?”

“The guy from tech support. At least you’ll still have someone to help you with your reports,” Blair spat.

Jim crossed the room in three long strides and spun Blair around to face him. His anger melted in an instant at the look of utter despair in his lover’s eyes. He took Blair by the wrist and dragged him toward the couch. Blair allowed himself to be pulled half way across the room before he dug in his heels and started to resist. Jim stopped, looking back at the smaller man angrily.

“You really think I’m seeing someone else?” Jim asked.

“Aren’t you?”

“When have I had the time? I work all day and I come home to spend time with you. When exactly do you figure I’ve found someone else? Although you couldn’t blame me. You won’t let me touch you anymore. Maybe I should be asking you if you’re seeing someone else.”

Blair flinched like Jim had slapped him. “How could you think that I would do that to you? I’ve loved you almost since the beginning! I’ve given up everything to stay here with you and-”

“You won’t let me touch you or make love to you anymore,” Jim answered. “I need you but I don’t know how to get past what those fanatics did to you.” He released Blair’s wrist and raised his hand to gently cup his lover’s cheek. His other hand came up to weave his fingers in the dark curls to cradle the back of Blair’s head. Moving slowly, he lowered his head to bring their lips together. Extending the tip of his tongue, he carefully moistened Blair’s lips before laying claim to them with his own. He felt Blair tense and eased back slightly, nibbling on the shorter man’s lips until he felt the tension melt away. Exerting a little more pressure, he felt Blair’s mouth open slightly and he threaded his tongue through the opening. There was an almost electric tingle in his gut as he felt Blair latch on and begin to suck on his tongue.

Jim eased his hand away from Blair’s face and let it rest on his shoulder for a moment before moving it lower. He spread his fingers over the small of his lover’s back and drew him in closer. At first, Blair tensed up again but gradually, he began to relax. Jim let his hand drift down over the small, perfect ass and squeezed. Blair moaned, opening his mouth wider to draw more of Jim’s tongue inside. Jim was happy to give in, letting his lover take control of the kiss.

Blair tentatively raised his hands to Jim’s hips, partly to steady himself, and partly because it gave him a small measure of control. He rose up on his toes, pulling desperately on Jim’s tongue. When he felt the large, warm hand cupping his ass, he moaned.

They stood there for several minutes, swaying slightly as they kissed. Jim slowly brought his hand up and slid it under Blair’s shirts. The moment he hit skin, he felt his lover stiffen and try to pull away. Jim tightened his hold, turning them so that Blair’s back was against the post. He slid his hand around and ran it up the front of Blair’s shirt, lightly brushing the nipple ring. Blair gasped and arched away from the post. Finally, Jim pulled away and looked down at his lover, whose chest was heaving. Jim rubbed his groin against Blair and felt the answering hardness in the younger man’s pants.

“I need you,” Jim whispered. “I want you.”

Blair stared up at his lover and trembled. He wanted Jim to make love to him but he was afraid. While he was debating with himself, Jim took him by the arm and led him up the steps to the bedroom. Once there, Jim returned to his sensual onslaught, kissing and touching Blair as he edged him toward the bed. He continued, keeping Blair off balance and not allowing him time to think about what was happening between them. He pushed the flannel shirt off of Blair’s shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Bringing his hands up slowly, he slipped his fingers under the tee shirt and brought it up. Blair moaned and raised his arms, allowing Jim to remove the shirt. In return, he pushed Jim’s shirt up and wrapped his arms around the taller man, bringing them skin to skin contact.

Jim pulled his own shirt off, tossing it toward the hamper. He slid his arms around Blair, bending his head to inhale deeply of his lover’s scent. The sweet ache in his groin was becoming unbearable in the confines of his pants. Blair’s lips closed around one of his nipples and Jim gasped, automatically cradling the back of the curly-haired head. His other hand crept between them to unfasten his pants and ease the zipper down.

Eventually, two hot, naked bodies lay entwined on the bed. Jim’s hands stroked Blair’s body, keeping him on the razor’s edge of a climax. When he finally reached for the lube, they were both more than ready. Jim carefully teased Blair into readiness before pushing into him. Blair’s legs clenched on Jim’s ribs as he moaned softly. They moved together in a familiar rhythm until Jim froze, shooting deeply into Blair’s body. Blair came a moment later, coating both of them with liquid warmth.

Afterwards, as they lay snuggled together, Jim’s eyes tightened and his nostrils flared as he picked up the faint scent of blood. He took Blair’s hand and brought it up closer to his face. He used his thumb to gently pry the fingers away so he could see what damage his lover had done to himself.

Blair tried to pull his hand away, not wanting Jim to see the scar in his palm. Jim’s grip tightened until Blair stopped resisting. He studied the neat, half-moon depressions in the small palm. He sensed the uneasiness in his lover and brought Blair’s hand closer, until he could press his lips to the warm, soft skin. He carefully turned Blair’s hand and kissed the back side of it. He steered Blair’s hand to lie over his heart and held it there. They fell asleep and dreamt of the panther and the wolf, frolicking and playing among the lush, green trees.

It wasn’t exactly the end of Blair’s trauma; it was more of a beginning to his healing.


End file.
